


Little Ghost

by swiftishere



Series: MSA One-Shots [9]
Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Post-Ghost (Mystery Skulls Animated), deadbeats are cats, little kitters made of either fire or love depending on who you ask, that's a hell of a tag huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swiftishere/pseuds/swiftishere
Summary: It followed him! Heknewit would! They were too angry and toorelentlessto give up the chase just because he'd left the mansion. Now he was alone and it had showed up again and there was no way he was getting out of this-...and why isn't it attacking?
Series: MSA One-Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440190
Comments: 19
Kudos: 144





	Little Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> fic double whammy! is this poor etiquette? i really don't know. it's jazz baybey it's all about the fics i don't post

The little pink dot glows, he notices. 

Arthur does his best to focus his eyes, squinting from his vantage point now on the floor, and quietly curses himself for deciding to take out his contacts. _Fuck_ , it _is_ one of the wisps. It followed him home- Vivi had said it wouldn’t! That it was bound to the mansion! He _knew_ that was too lucky, but he’d still decided it would be a good idea to relax once he was home and _now it was going to tear out his throat with those spectral claws_ \- 

-except it... wasn’t doing that. It had been stationary since it’d jumped up and scared him out of his chair. And- blinking a couple times and squinting harder- there were none of the claws and fangs from earlier, and its eyes weren’t angry slits anymore. It looked... confused, more than anything, as it tilts its little head and blinks back at him. 

“ _What the fuck do you want_ ,” he whispers at it, not really expecting an answer, and tries to remember where he left his phone. It’s probably charging on the dresser, _fuck, no, that’s definitely where it is_. All the way across the room from the ghost. So no calling for help. 

Maybe if he holds very still, he can avoid whatever it is that made them all so angry back in the mansion. He focuses on taking small, measured breaths, and moving as little as possible. 

It starts to float towards him, and he twitches, barely restraining himself from jumping back again. It must notice the small movement anyway, because it stops, returning to its original position with a small, confused-sounding squeak. There’s another thing- there’s none of the banshee-like wailing from earlier. It made an almost catlike hum when he first noticed it, but other than that it’s being... quiet. 

At least it still isn’t attacking. That’s good. That’s, uh, progress? Towards not getting shredded? 

This time when it starts towards him again, he manages to not almost jump out of his skin. He still almost stops breathing when it draws close enough for him to really, properly see it without needing to squint - almost under his nose, it cocks its head to the side with another soft hum. Its eyes are glowing golden pits, and he can’t get himself to break the eye contact. 

It nudges a little closer with a musical trill, almost-but-not-quite touching his cheek. 

And then it _does_ touch his cheek, and his restraint breaks and he yelps and jumps back, in the process banging his shoulder against the wall. The wisp, now a good few feet away from him, makes a similar squeak in response and darts towards him again. This time it goes for his other cheek, and he can’t get away as quickly since he’s pretty much backed into a corner...

...it’s warm, but it doesn’t burn, he notices this time. It doesn’t try to dig its fangs into his neck, either. It’s... almost nuzzling against him? With a very quiet, low trilling that almost sounds like... 

...a purr. 

“What... are you doing?” he whispers at it, and it opens its eyes and turns to look at him almost upside-down. It squeaks and, like _that’s_ an answer, goes back to rubbing against his neck. 

When it’s practically wound itself around him like a scarf, he cautiously reaches one hand up to rest against its head. The trilling gets louder, which he decides to take as a positive sign. 


End file.
